


a garden of sweeter dreams

by griima (soaringslash)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Dimitri gets kicked out of the library for being too gay, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Pining, Pre-Timeskip, im....gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soaringslash/pseuds/griima
Summary: Linhardt nods and murmurs, “Indeed,” through another yawn. “I am getting, well, tired of sleeping in the monastery though. Perhaps I should try to find a good place to nap under the stars… Oh, but it would have to be worth the effort…”And curse the prim and proper prince in him that makes him drop his book and sit up straight and exclaim, “I might know a spot or two!”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62
Collections: FE3H Rarepair Port's All Pairings Challenge





	a garden of sweeter dreams

“Oh, hello, Dimitri.”

It is enough to startle him out of his books, his stomach turning flips at the mere mention of his own name. _Pathetic,_ some part of him hisses as warmth floods his face. He pushes that voice back down. 

When the world addresses you with titles and formalities, nothing becomes sweeter than a name. There is nothing pathetic about it, he tells himself. 

He doesn’t believe it, but thinking it hard enough does make him feel better.

He is so caught up in his thoughts that it takes him a moment to realize he’s left the greeting hanging.

“Ah, Linhardt!” he exclaims belatedly - his voice is too loud, and the librarian shoots him a dirty look. He’ll have to apologize later. “Reading up on crests again?” he asks, softer.

“Mm. I was just finishing up.” He yawns so hugely that tears gather in the corners of his eyes. “Time truly does fly by sometimes.”

“Sounds like a nap may be in order,” Dimitri replies with a forced chuckle. It is, again, too loud, and the librarian looks ready to throttle him.

Linhardt nods and murmurs, “Indeed,” through another yawn. “I am getting, well, tired of sleeping in the monastery though. Perhaps I should try to find a good place to nap under the stars… Oh, but it would have to be worth the effort…”

And curse the prim and proper prince in him that makes him drop his book and sit up straight and exclaim, “I might know a spot or two!”

The librarian starts making a series of intricate— and frankly somewhat frightening—gestures at him. He thinks he’s being reprimanded. Or maybe cursed. Either way, Dimitri has the feeling he won’t be allowed back in the library for a while.

But that doesn’t matter, because Linhardt has decided to link arms with him. His hair has slipped partially from its tie and cascades down his shoulders in a silken river. Dimitri is having a hard time breathing.

“Lead the way then, my Prince.”

He loses what little breath he managed to gather in his lungs with that.

 _“Eheahuh?”_ he wheezes.

Linhardt nods like that’s the sagest advice he ever heard. “Yeah.”

Dimitri coughs. Slams his fist against his chest. Coughs again to cover up the sound of metal denting.

“I’m sorry,” he says reflexively.

Linhardt chuckles. “No need,” he says, his voice soft, his words shaped around a smile that Dimitri can’t look at without getting even more embarrassed. 

At the very least, the young scholar seems content enough to walk in silence the rest of the way.

The spot Dimitri has in mind isn’t too far from the monastery grounds. It’s tucked into a little corner by the Forbidden Woods, which is enough to keep most people away. A private place, perhaps a garden once upon a time, now overgrown with wildflowers and seeds carried on the wind.

Linhardt makes a trilling noise of delight in the back of his throat at the sight of it, and plops himself down in a patch of dandelions. The yellow blooms surround his head like a halo, and coupled with his serene expression as he closes his eyes… Dimitri never much understood people like Ignatz and Marianne, steadfast in their prayers and devotion, but in this moment he wonders if maybe this is how it feels to gaze upon the divine. 

“You gonna join me or not?” Linhardt asks. 

Dimitri jolts as he finds himself staring into an eye of deepest blue. Linhardt huffs out a sigh through his nose and gives the prince’s pant leg a tug. 

“C’mon. You look like you could use a nap too.”

It would be rude to refuse. Dimitri nods numbly and settles himself down beside him, although he has no intent to sleep.

It’s enough to satisfy Linhardt, though, and soon his eyes flutter closed again and his breaths turn shallow and rhythmic. 

Now certain in the other’s slumber, Dimitri allows himself to stare more openly. Linhardt’s uniform is slightly askew, smudged with dirt, and drool gathers in the corner of his mouth. It makes him all the more human - _all the more beautiful,_ Dimitri thinks. 

The thought startles him. Beautiful?

… Yes. 

His heart thuds painfully in his chest. He leans forward - it is wrong to indulge even a single moment of weakness when his purpose is nothing more than death, but he cannot help this terribly selfish, terribly alive impulse - to ghost his lips against Linhardt’s forehead.

He suddenly wants to cry. He turns his head away, and does not notice the glimmer of blue behind Linhardt’s lashes, or the way the other boy’s hand grazes his own.

But when he does finally give in, close his eyes and fall back into the grass…

… Dimitri sleeps, and the nightmares do not come.


End file.
